Lyrics You Press the Button, We Do the Rest - Duke Special
In
′83
while
Berlin
I
took
the
chance
to
ogle
At
silver
plates
and
bichromates
developed
by
Herr
Vogel
And
so
began
a
love
affair
which
blossomed
into
passion
For
all
things
photographical,
but
now
my
face
is
ashen
Oh,
I
refer,
of
course,
to
Mr
Eastman's
new
construction
A
regular
Pandora′s
box
put
into
mass
production
Those
fools
who
dream
they're
artists
are
to
me
a
tad
deluded
For
owning
your
own
Kodak
doesn't
stop
you
being
stupid
Out
into
the
sticks
they
carry
it
Every
Tom
and
Dick
and
Harriet
Furiously
pedalling
upon
their
chariots
Snap
snap
snap
snap
snap
they
go
Why
they
snap
they
do
not
know
They
disregard
discretion,
they
eschew
the
right
to
choose
Like
mindless
big-game
hunters
they′ll
shoot
anything
that
moves
I
don′t
suggest
that
you'll
progress
to
better
lumière
But
this
clowning
with
a
Browning
is
frankly
more
than
I
can
bear
Their
rolls
of
nitrocellulose
exposed
beyond
redemption
It′s
back
to
Eastman's
factory
for
God
knows
whose
attention
And
then
as
if
expecting
heaven′s
blessing
from
the
stork
They
wait
for
a
delivery
postmarked
Rochester,
New
York
Out
into
the
sticks
they
carry
it
Every
Tom
and
Dick
and
Harriet
Furiously
pedalling
upon
their
chariots
Snap
snap
snap
snap
snap
they
go
Why
they
snap
they
just
don't
know
You
push
the
button,
and
we
do
the
rest
Well
not
unlike
that
button
I
am
suddenly
depressed
Out
into
the
sticks
they
carry
it
Every
Tom
and
Dick
and
Harriet
Furiously
pedalling
upon
their
chariots
Snap
snap
snap
snap
snap
they
go
Why
they
snap
they
do
not
know
You′re
all
obsessed
with
things
extraneous
Only
interested
in
the
instantaneous
Suddenly
somebody's
muddling
up
the
quickest
with
the
brainiest
Snap
snap
snap
snap
snap
they
go
Why
they
snap
they
do
not
know
Snap
snap
snap
snap
snap
they
go
Why
they
snap
they'll
never
know
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